Page 87 of Immortal Bastard

As soon as Gracie went inside, Destiny leaned forward and whispered. “Terrible twos can get pretty ugly around here.”

Larissa laughed. “Why do you think I left Moriah with her father? Just yesterday she pulled the entire table down, ruining supper.”

So far, these women were proving to be an incredible form of birth control. “Is Moriah your daughter?” she asked Larissa.

“Yes, and the apple of her father’s stubborn eye.”

“And a pain in her mother’s ass,” Destiny joked, making Delilah laugh as well.

All humor disappeared when Gracie returned holding a small boy, no bigger than little Cain, wearing some sort of leather Hannibal Lecter mask on his face. Delilah’s eyes widened at the sight. “Why…”

“He bites,” Gracie explained, lowering the boy to the quilt with a bottle. “Behave, Jaden, and I’ll take you to the woods later.”

The boy plugged the bottle into his mouth, the rubber nipple fitting perfectly between the wire slats of his mask. Humanitarian concerns for the child overwhelmed Delilah and she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

Gracie touched her arm. “Don’t stare. He doesn’t like that.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s perfectly fine.”

But how could she know for sure? The boy surely couldn’t say much at his young age, and whatever words he meant to say would be compromised by the muzzle.

“I’m telepathic.”

Delilah’s focus snapped from Jaden to Gracie. “Seriously?” She’d thought that was only a mate thing.

Gracie smiled. “It’s a gift. I promise you, Jaden is completely content. He’s my baby brother. I would never allow anyone or anything to harm him. But he’s teething and a danger to others.”

“Poor Grandfather. His knuckle still hasn’t fully healed.”

She was sitting with the fucking Addams family.

Annalise returned and took the sleeping baby Lucy back from Destiny. “Thanks for holding her.”

“I don’t mind.”

Annalise took a seat with the baby. “I know, but your hands are better at sewing than mine, so I’ll hold her.”

“And we have much to do,” Larissa reminded.

The women—aside from Annalise—plucked material from the basket and returned to stitching. Delilah looked in the basket. “Can I do something?” She didn’t know the first thing about making clothes.

“You just relax,” Gracie said. “It’s a skill that develops with time.”

Time was something she had plenty of. “Did you always know how to sew?” she asked Destiny, who didn’t appear to have the proficiency of Larissa and Gracie, but she was still more capable than Delilah.

“My mom used to be a seamstress, so I learned from watching her. But I’m nowhere near as talented as Larissa and Grace.”

She glanced at Annalise and the woman snorted. “I got nothin’.”

Her modern slang made Delilah smile. She hadn’t considered that her clothes were handmade, and now she felt horrible for comparing her gown to a pile of Jell-O shot puke.

Gracie slowed her stitching. “Oh, my.” She placed the green fabric back in the basket. “I think I’ll work on a black dress for you.”

Delilah’s eyes widened. Shit. Was she reading her mind?

“Not purposefully. You newer transitions tend to project your thoughts. It’s sort of like you’re shouting at me. What’s a Jell-O shot?”

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